[ In their embrace he can still remember the body language of the attack, his brother manhandling him to toss him across the room, around the hallway, the sharp contact to his skull before it all ended abruptly. He's never died quite like that, with as much stark, panicked fear. So often it had been slow and dramatic, or... a shotgun to the chest, without warning, that once. He hadn't been able to fully process Dean's attack before he died. He knew it would be dangerous for him, but wasn't sure until it was far too late that it would be fatal.
But he'd been able to do it with ease. Dean had smiled throughout.
Sam draws back and he has to push it all down, still raw and unprocessed after all this time. ]
'Course. [ He says, roughly, and clears his throat. ] Yeah, we'll figure it out. We always do, right?
[ One way or another. ]
I haven't found anything here that can help, and trust me, I've looked. [ For months and months since he got back and knew it would happen. Sam shakes his head, trying not to look as grim as he feels. ] But we've got more people here than we do back home. We can figure this out.
[ If it's the last thing he does, he won't let that happen again. It's how their horrible, sacrificial cycle keeps happening, but Sam would take just about anything over seeing Dean as a demon a second time. ]
dean knows he just has to trust his brother, and himself, to do the best they can. that's all anyone can do, right? and all he can ask for. yet it's a bitter pill to swallow when he wishes they had some kind of lead, some kind of something that might cue them in on how to remove the mark.
or at the very least slow down its angry presence on his arm.
if only death worked. ]
We'll look more-- and find something. And maybe, I don't know, maybe one of us will get sent home at some point, and learn more. [ and then come back obviously, so maybe they can find someone who still has some vouchers, or something.
fuck is he mad for using his on the goddamn first blade. stupid demon-him.
but either way, a moment passes before dean sighs, then looks at his brother a little more intently. ]
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action;
But he'd been able to do it with ease. Dean had smiled throughout.
Sam draws back and he has to push it all down, still raw and unprocessed after all this time. ]
'Course. [ He says, roughly, and clears his throat. ] Yeah, we'll figure it out. We always do, right?
[ One way or another. ]
I haven't found anything here that can help, and trust me, I've looked. [ For months and months since he got back and knew it would happen. Sam shakes his head, trying not to look as grim as he feels. ] But we've got more people here than we do back home. We can figure this out.
[ If it's the last thing he does, he won't let that happen again. It's how their horrible, sacrificial cycle keeps happening, but Sam would take just about anything over seeing Dean as a demon a second time. ]
action;
dean knows he just has to trust his brother, and himself, to do the best they can. that's all anyone can do, right? and all he can ask for. yet it's a bitter pill to swallow when he wishes they had some kind of lead, some kind of something that might cue them in on how to remove the mark.
or at the very least slow down its angry presence on his arm.
if only death worked. ]
We'll look more-- and find something. And maybe, I don't know, maybe one of us will get sent home at some point, and learn more. [ and then come back obviously, so maybe they can find someone who still has some vouchers, or something.
fuck is he mad for using his on the goddamn first blade. stupid demon-him.
but either way, a moment passes before dean sighs, then looks at his brother a little more intently. ]
I'm glad I have you on my side, man.